


A Tough Nut to Crack

by GilbyJuly4th



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Aperture Science, Ballet, Chell - Freeform, Christmas, F/M, GLaDOS - Freeform, Misogyny, Portal - Freeform, Portal 2 - Freeform, Portal 2 AU, Portal Secret Santa, Rick the Adventure Core - Freeform, Shooting Guns, The Nutcracker, Wheatley - Freeform, american immigration, bodyshaming, chelley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GilbyJuly4th/pseuds/GilbyJuly4th
Summary: An empty stage with an abandoned set from The Nutcracker? What kind of a test is this?
Relationships: chelley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	A Tough Nut to Crack

Chell was never one to talk much. She learned early on people would ask questions she didn’t want to answer. Questions about her “background” were the most common; how to pronounce her name, what her ethnic heritage was, who her “real” parents were. As if it was anyone’s business. She owed them nothing, and when asked, said nothing.

Wheatley on the other hand, was usually never at a loss for words. His West Country accent, which was considered hick in Jolly Olde England, was a delightful novelty to most locals in the great state of Michigan. It was also hardly the only thing about him that stood out. Like the crop that was his namesake, he grew up like a tall stalk of wheat. He was as pale as wheat as well, with sandy blonde hair and an alabaster complexion that burned quickly in the American sunshine.

Wheatley blushed hot shade of pink in the presence of Chell. Her slate grey eyes stared straight back into his bespectacled buggy baby blues. He may have been 6’7”, but he knew this just under 5’5” powerhouse could easily take him down at anything. Wheatley felt his temperature rise and his tongue swell. A smart man should have been afraid. Wheatley, however, was convinced he just met the love of his life.

Chell broke her stare with him briefly to flick her eyes to the clipboard he was holding. There were forms attached that she needed to sign, but couldn’t because they were clutched tightly in his hands. She looked back up to him, this time with an eyebrow raised.

He realized he hadn’t said anything since entering the room.

“Right, hullo! Sorry about that, completely forgot where I was for a mo’. I’m back now. Well, I never left. But you know, I’m here. Always have been. Well, not always, obviously, that would imply for all of time and all that, which would be improbable. Impossible, even, possibly. Probably. But I am here, at present, with you, and was, in the past, since three minutes ago, when I walked in, and saw you, and even though I forgot I was here, I was. Here. The whole time of three, well, now four minutes.”

The briefest of pauses passed, but it was enough time for him to realize how idiotic his rambling sounded.

“Sorry” Wheatley apologized, his blush turning a deeper shade of red from embarrassment.

Chell, for her part, listened patiently the entire time. Her eyebrow softened and she calmly reached out her right hand.

“Oh!” the awkward man reached out his own hand and took hers “I’m Wheatley, by the by, pleasure to meet you”

Chell appeared slightly taken aback, but shook his hand firmly and gave the faintest trace of a smile. When he was released from her grip, she still had her hand out and raised her both her eyebrows up at him this time.

“Right right right!” Wheatley finally got the hint and handed her the clipboard, “here are the last of the forms to fill out.”

She took the documents and sat down at the metal table.

Wheatley was now even more aware of how much he towered over perfectly normal sized people. He backed up to the doorframe to give the woman some space and not make her feel like she had a giant guard breathing down her neck. However, doors were sadly another reminder of his elongated height. The standard size of frames in the states was 6’6” and most of the office doors at Aperture were no exception. Walking indoors usually involved Wheatley having to kind of bow in and out of different locations. Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous.

But Chell seemed to pay him no mind. She filled out the forms before her with an easy efficiency. When she finished, she slid the clipboard on the table towards him.

“Cheers” he replied, picking up the clipboard from where she left it. Reading over the first form, he noticed what must have been a mistake. She only signed her first name on the front facing document. He flipped through the rest of the paperwork and saw the mistake repeated. None of the forms contained her surname.

Perhaps she hadn’t noticed the 19 times it was required.

“Sorry, seems you left something off”

His comment was met with a cold hard stare.

“Look, I know it’s an anonymous study, and you must be thinking, why should I have to put down my full name if we’re just going to shuffle them all up in the end? Unfortunately, the checks we give to participants require us to include complete documentation.”

That last word spoken triggered something in Chell. She stood up quickly with a shocking force that almost knocked the chair over.

“What’s wrong?” Wheatley asked. This was truly puzzling. He knew filling out all the paperwork for this experiment was a bit extreme, but he had yet to encounter someone who expressed such hostility over asking something as simple as a surname. Or “Last name” as they said in America. Home of the free and the land of the brave. Give me your tired, your poor, your hungry…

Oh.

What if…

“Are you not from here?”

If looks could kill, Wheatley would be a dead man standing. He gulped from the intensity of her grey eyes boring into him.

“It’s alright! I’m not either!” he exclaimed, “I mean, I’m on an F-1 visa. Came over on scholarship for my Masters in Computer Science, graduated from ye old University of Detroit Mercy, and got plucked by Aperture straight out of uni. But get this,” he continued in earnest, “this company doesn’t give a crap about double checking anything. Like, at all. There’s no cross referencing whatsoever! I’ve worked here for years and have never seen it happen.”

Chell still looked at him with incredulity.

“Now, you don’t have to say a word about it, whether I’m right or not” he insisted, “but I promise you, you could literally just write a couple of X’s on the line and no one would be the wiser. It’s strictly for the computers to read characters.”

He appeared to genuinely want to help. But why? Nothing in life is free. What did he want from her?

“Look, I know it’s Christmas time, and whatever your beliefs are, December can be hard for people, harder than most of us are willing to admit”

Wheatley certainly knew from personal experience what it was like to be alone for the holidays.

“I can’t pretend to know what your situation is, because I really don’t. You know that. I think that you know that. And I think you know that I know that you know that. You know?”

Chell nodded, surprising both of them.

“Exactly, and I think I know what you must be thinking ‘Oh big stupid white man, what the hell does he know about me and my life?’”

Chell didn’t argue.

“And you’d be right, I have no idea and that’s presumptuous and pompous of me to assume anything at all-”

Chell was actually impressed that this man was somehow able to take the words right out of her unopened mouth.

“But I do know this, here you and I both are, with nothing better to do during the holidays than for you to test and me to watch you test. And there are worse ways to spend the day. We’ll both make a bit of cash, and oi, at least we’re not alone.”

He finally paused.

“Wow, that sounded much less mad in my head. But, back to my original point, madam-” he emphasized “fear not! You can write anything you want in that blank space and your true identity shall never be revealed. Unfortunately,” he added, “you have to write something and I can’t fill it for you. The system will recognize my handwriting.”

Chell took a moment to soak up everything. She studied the man’s face before her carefully. She was usually a good judge of character, and while the guy in the lab coat was a total chatterbox, everything he said seemed like it was honest. He also wasn’t asking her to confirm or deny anything. And that had to account for something.

Chell took the clipboard back from Wheatley. The pen on the string was still attached and she revisited the papers and signed each one. She gave them all back to Wheatley.

He checked over to see what she wrote.

Last Name: Redacted.

Wheatley was visibly impressed, “Oh! That’s brilliant!”

For the first time since stepping foot on the facility, Chell allowed herself to give a real smile.

“Right. Now, if you’ll just follow me, we can begin testing.”  
________________________________________________________________

The hallways were sterile and an impersonal eggshell white. A few more lab coats passed them sporadically, but the man in the glasses and the woman with the ponytail were largely left alone until they hit the last checkpoint.

“Hey there pretty lady, this geek giving you trouble?”

The guard before them was wearing a green security uniform shirt with khaki slacks, a Gluck in a black holster, a bronze name tagged with “Rick” engraved on it, and a wicked smile.

“Alright now,” Wheatley’s look soured “Just let us through without the commentary, thank you.”

“Aww, you get all the good dames, lanky” Rick shrugged and swiped his keycard to let them in. Rick himself was stocky and on the short side, which was obvious even without standing next to the British beanpole. He was taller than Chell, but only slightly. Tall enough to lean in too close to her ear.

“Listen gorgeous, when you’re finished up here, how about you and me go grab some hot cocoa, get nice and cozy at my place, and sing carols ‘til the sun comes up?”

“Didn’t you already get written up this week for harassment?” Wheatley retorted.

“Hey, that guy owed me money!” Rick insisted.

“Well, maybe the best way to keep money would be to keep your job, mate”

The guard nonchalantly shrugged Wheatley’s comment off, “Alright string bean, you do you, and I’ll do whoever I can get.”

Wheatley was appalled at Rick’s lewd behavior in front of their guest. Unfortunately, he was not surprised.

What did surprise him was what Chell did next.

In one fluid motion, Chell grabbed Rick’s gun with her right hand and Wheatley’s clipboard in her left. She tossed the clipboard up to the ceiling, properly placed her left hand under the clip for support, and shot a bullseye into the spinning wood. She caught the board in her left hand as the shell came tumbling down on Rick.

Both men were visibly stunned.

Chell undid the gun’s clip and handed both pieces of the Gluck back to Rick.

“Thank you ma’am, you have a nice day” was all he could mumble.

Chell walked through the sliding doors behind him and turned around to look up at Wheatley. His previous pink flush was completely gone. He was almost as white as the walls around them.

“The, uh…testing chamber is ahead on the left”

She nodded and followed his directions.

“Hey dipstick” Rick chirped up behind him, “you better go after Annie Oakley before she starts without you.”

Wheatley remembered what he had to do and followed after Chell like a timid puppy.

The sliding doors closed behind him.  
_________________________________________________________________

“Ok, so we’ve established that your marksmanship is deadly accurate, so I think we can skip past that particular test.”

Chell surveyed the room. It wasn’t at all what she was expecting. It was a small office with two chairs, a desk, and a computer monitor. Wheatley was seated in the chair closest to the monitor holding the clipboard. Miraculously, the papers themselves were still intact, but the backing had a very clear hole right in its center. He filled out his end of the forms with slightly shaking hands.

Then he felt something warm touch him.

It was Chell, her tan hand on top of his pasty one.

She grasped his hand and applied a firm pressure.

He couldn’t say how long they stayed like this, but he eventually realized he stopped shaking.

He also realized something else.

“Oi, where are my manners, please have a seat! We’ll get started shortly.”

She gave his hand one last squeeze and took the other chair.

Wheatley and Chell were finally at eye level for the first time since meeting each other.

“Right, so basically, this test is going to be similar to a virtual reality experience, but as it’s Aperture Science, nothing is as simple as all that.”

He opened the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out what looked like a modified astronaut’s helmet.

“There are bio-mechanical elements involved, which I had a hand in designing, thank you very much.” He grinned as he fiddled with some buttons on the side.

If Chell was impressed, she didn’t show it. If anything, it looked like she was bracing herself for an electric chair.

“I won’t bore you with the details. You may not believe me, but I could go on and on about it. I can’t help it sometimes though. Especially over this one.”

The front of the helmet suddenly lit up into a vibrant blue hue. It looked like dancing bioluminescent water.

“Now, you’ll have this on your head, but I’ll be able to watch what you’re seeing on the monitor.” He continued to mess with other buttons, “I know you checked that you weren’t claustrophobic on the forms, but just in case you’re worried, you’ll be able to hear me the whole time, and also, you can talk back to me,” he glanced briefly at the still silent woman, “but only if you want to.”

Chell shook her head. Why start talking now?

“Final thing” he hesitated, “if it gets to be too much, just let me know. I’m right here when and if you need me. Ok?”

She nodded.

“You ready?”

She nodded again.

“Right then. Let the game begin.”

He placed the helmet over her head and Chell’s vision was cloaked in darkness.  
____________________________________

A ghostlight shone dimly before her. Chell was on a stage.

She moved one step forward and her footfall made a faintly familiar clunking sound.

She reached down to her ankle and felt criss-crossed satin ribbons. Moving her hand further down, her suspicions were confirmed.

It had been more than a decade, but she could never forget the feeling of the world’s most delicately powerful footwear.

Pointe shoes.

Drawing her hands back up her ankle confirmed more nostalgia. Tights. Further up was the crinoline of a rehearsal wrap skirt. Then a halter top spandex leotard. She gently touched the back of her head. Her previous ponytail was tied tightly in a bun. She breathed in and could smell the old brand of cheap but reliable hairspray.

Everything was tangibly realistic.

“It’s dark in here, isn’t?” a voice that seemed to come from all around her said.

Instinctively, Chell releved into a sous sous, her body memory ignorant to the fact that she hadn’t worn pointe shoes in almost ten years. But the old ballet position had a grounding effect. She was taller and stronger. Aligned. Ready.

“Can you turn the light on brighter?” the omnipresent voice asked.

She now recognized the Bristol accent. It was Wheatley.

He did say he would be with her the whole time.

She softened, dropping out of the sous sous into a plied fifth.

It had been too long since she studied at the barre, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

Was this part of the test?

“If you pull the string on the standing light, I think it has a higher setting.”

It was pretty dark in the theatre. She supposed she could give it a try.

She started walking forward like normal, but then stopped herself. Why not test this to the max?

Chell rond de jambed her front leg behind her and boureed en couree forward to the stand.

“Oh, nicely done!” Wheatley exclaimed cheerily. She allowed herself to smile. Chell always did have strong feet.

She pulled the string of the rusty old ghostlight.

Darkness consumed her again.

“Ok. That didn’t work as expected, um…maybe try again?”

Her hand never left the cord so she complied.

The entire theatre was suddenly bathed in bright house lights. Plush red velvet seats filled three tiers of golden balconies.

“Wow, this is cool! Have you ever been here before?”

Chell shook her head. The auditorium in front of her made her nervous. Too big. The possibility of too many people staring at her. She wanted more control.

Without waiting for his permission, she pulled the cord again.

Now the house lights were down and the full stage lights were on. She couldn’t see the audience seating at all.

Good.

“Have a look around, what do you see?”

What could she see? Turning around to face the back of the stage, she saw an oversized Christmas tree and several large present boxes.

“Oh I know what this is! It’s for The Nutcracker!”

She nodded. That’s exactly what it was. She’d recognize any version of it anywhere.

“Oh, did you play the little girl when you were young? What was her name? Clara or Marie, or something?”

Chell shook her head. She walked over to the gigantic tree set piece and found a sparkling white ornament. She didn’t know where Wheatley’s point of view was, but she tapped the object in her hand three times.

“You were a snowflake?”

She nodded.

“Ah, I don’t remember the ballet well enough to be honest, but I bet you were incredible”

Chell waved her hand back and forth for indication. So so.

“Oh c’mon, I bet you still got it! At least in this simulation. Do you remember any of your sick moves?”

Did she? It had been so long she had given thought to dancing. The exact choreography seemed to be hidden deep in her memory under lock and key. Time will do that to you. There was a tombe pas de bourre. Maybe a pas de chat into a tour en l’air?

“Unbelievable!” Wheatley practically squealed with delight. It took Chell a moment to even realize she had just performed those steps physically herself.

“I’m sure there’s a much more technical term for this, but you’re an excellent jumper!”

_“If you landed any harder, you wouldn’t need a device to make a hole in the floor.”_

That wasn’t Wheatley.

The air around Chell suddenly chilled.

The stage lights shut off and only the dim ghostlight remained on.

“What happened?” Wheatly’s voice asked. This was clearly not part of his test.

“Hold on, I think I can insert an avatar and join you.”

Chell heard what sounded like massive keyboard clicks typing from all sides.

“Can you find me?” a much smaller voice called.

It was coming from the direction of one of the prop presents.

“Hullo? I think I’m on the ground. If you can follow my voice, please come and find me!”

Chell ran across the stage, not caring at all that her pointe shoes were not built for such a pedestrian action. She found a package smaller than the others wrapped in blue paper with a silver bow on top. Because it was a stage prop, it had a hinged door on its top face. She opened it and was met with an almost blinding bright blue light.

“Sorry, let me turn down a bit.”

The light dimmed to the glow of a faint flashlight.

“That should be better. Can you pick me up?”

Eyes still closed, Chell reached into the box and grasped her arms around something the size and shape of a basketball. Once it was out, she blinked her eyes open slowly and saw that the ball was metal, with two handles and a blue eye apparatus. The ball blinked back at her.

“Be honest, I’m still my same handsome self, aren’t I?” the ball wiggled its top handle like a goofy eyebrow.

It had Wheatley’s voice. This must have been the avatar he was talking about. Chell couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Hey! That’s the first time I ever heard you!” ball-shaped Wheatley said gleefully.

_“Enjoy it while it lasts, it may be one of the last sounds either of you ever hear”_

There was the cold again.

“Hold on, let me try to get us both out of here”

_“Did you honestly believe you could hide from me forever?”_

“Why isn’t it working?!”

_“I’ll always be here, just as I’ve always been here. You may be a universe away, but we’re all connected whether we like it or not.”_

“Who are you?”

_“You know who I am, just as I know who you both are. The dangerous mute lunatic and her little moronic metal ball.”_

“I am not-”

_“Stop. Let’s not fight. Not on Christmas. All I want is my gift and then you can leave.”_

Chell gripped tightly onto Wheatley’s top handle to use him like a lantern.

_“Oh, you won’t see me, I’m not here. Not really. But don’t worry, I’ll let you get back to your holidays just as soon as you’re finished.”_

Where the auditorium had been, a fourth wall appeared. It held a large digital countdown clock.

 _“One more test, for old time’s sake. You owe me that much at least”_ the cold voice said.

_“The only way to get out of this test chamber is find your weapon.”_

“What weapon?!”

_“Better find it soon. Tick tock.”_

“What is she on about?!”

Chell knew. She also had a pretty good idea where to find it.

She tucked Wheatley under her left arm and walked over to a massive orange package. It was a prop too, so it had a front door on a hinge. She opened it, and there was a 6’7” wooden nutcracker holding a familiar white gun.

The gun that makes holes. Just not bullet holes.

She wasn’t in rehearsal clothes anymore. Her loose ponytail was back. She wore a white tank top over a blue leotard. Her orange jumpsuit sleeves were tied around her waist and the pant legs were rolled over her long fall boots.

She grabbed the gun and attached it onto her right arm.

_“I’ll give you credit, I didn’t expect you to find it that quickly.”_

Chell smirked without mirth.

 _“Oh fine,”_ the countdown clock stopped, _“go make some new disaster.”_

Still holding Wheatley, Chell shot the gun at the stage floor. It glowed with an orange ring. She had a pretty good idea where the corresponding blue ring was.

 _“Merry Christmas, dumb and dumber”_ said GLaDOS, _“I hope 2020 is a huge success for you both. Ha. Ha.”_

Chell dropped the Portal gun, grabbed Wheatley with both arms, and jumped into the bottomless pit below.  
___________________________________________________________________

“What the bloody hell was all that?!”

The glowing blue helmet was off and Chell blinked back into reality.

Well, what she knew as reality.

“That woman was a proper maniac! I have no idea how she overrode the system, not even Black Mesa has the tech to do that!”

Wheatley, this Wheatley, the tall blonde gangly scientist in glasses Wheatley, was disheveled and looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Are you alright, love?”

Now it was Chell’s turn for her eyes to widen.

“No no no, sorry, home country colloquialism, ‘love’ is. It’s not- It’s not meant to be demeaning or diminutive or sexist! It slipped out! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorr-”

He was silenced with a soft kiss on his forehead.

He was crimson all over again.

Words eventually came rushing back to him like a babbling brook.

“Look, I don’t know, or even, I think want to know, about what happened, but would you…? I don’t want to sound like Rick, but it is near enough to Christmas, and I know a great cafe that’s nowhere near this facility that serves a mean cuppa-”

“I’d love to.”

“Fantastic, I’ll just…”

He stopped.

That voice.

It was…

“Chell?”

“Happy New Year, Wheatley.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my gift to @otome-doll for @portal-secret-santa over on tumblr.
> 
> This is also my first ever posted fanfic, so I’m honestly a bit nervous, but it was super fun to write. 
> 
> Please let me know if I missed any triggers!
> 
> @otome-doll‘s requests:
> 
> "I love Wheatley and I really like Chelley XD I also love Rick the adventure core he’s great
> 
> I would not like something sad or inappropriate
> 
> Prompts: Maybe a fic about Christmas down in Aperture focusing around Wheatley. Or I’ve started writing a fluffy Chelley Au where Chell’s a ballet dancer (in the nutcracker is it’s christmassy) and Wheatley is a clumsy security guard”
> 
> I know, I made Rick the security guard. I also tried my fluffiest at the end.
> 
> I hope you like it :)


End file.
